Advice From Young Ladies
by Cryptographic DeLurk
Summary: Chelsea asks Mary for advice about how to be a mature woman that Woodrow might find pleasing. Mary feels she might be the worst person to have come to for this advice, but a walk around Neuestadt's Central Park couldn't hurt even in these troubled times. [Many pairings discussed and nothing particularly good is said about any of them.]


**Advice from Young Ladies**  
by _Cryprographic DeLurk_

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AN: This fic takes place in Neuestadt sometime during the latter half of the game. It is rooted in PSX Canon to the extreme (on the path where Dalis dies to boot) but I also included content based on the skits that got cut out of the ENG release and cherry picked a few references from the remake, oops. Also content warning for some lowkey suicidal ideation. If it suits, please Read & Relax.

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"Um- Ma'am? D-do you have a moment? There's something I'd like to discuss with you privately."

Mary turned back towards the speaker from where she was leaning over Irene's second floor balcony, glad to be distracted from her thoughts and the steady pull of gravity that wants her down on the cobbled streets. It was less lonely travelling with Rutee and Stahn than it was in Cyril. But Rutee and Stahn had each other, and Mary had no one.

Chelsea looked up at her from underneath a fringe of messily cut bangs. Her posture and words both possessed a well trained etiquette, but she looked like a nervous child.

Mary's neighbours were quick to tell her that her appearance as a fearsome warrior fell apart whenever she opened her mouth. She only cut a scary imposing figure to those who didn't know her. But Chelsea didn't know her. Mary thought it was probably unfair that she was standing here, effortlessly appearing stern and standoffish and self-assured (though she was none of these things) while this girl was trying so hard to manage a fraction of that and failing.

Mary tried to smile reassuringly, but it died on her lips. She didn't know Chelsea either.

"Sure," she said in her best friendly voice. "I'm not doing anything. What would you like to discuss?"

Chelsea flushed. "Well... If you know your enemies and know yourself, it is said that you won't lose, not even in a hundred battles..."

The words sounded awkward and strained on her tongue. And Mary thought of all the things she would have liked Chelsea to be to her – a protégé, or friend, or the daughter that she and Dalis didn't get to have – and what Chelsea actually is – confidante of a man and king, who Mary has earnestly, if secretly, wished dead in her husband's place.

"Let's take a walk and head over to the park," Mary said, as Chelsea continued to fumble for clearer words. She was still eager to be away from the balcony. "It's a beautiful day."

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They gave each other a wide berth. Chelsea couldn't seem to choose between walking behind Mary or walking with her, and Mary wasn't about to choose for her. So they walked far apart and missed each other and sulked about their inability to bridge the gap.

You could see down into the slums even from Neuestadt's loftiest ward, and every so often Mary caught Chelsea glancing at the raggedy children huddled around the share houses, like she found it distasteful but incomprehensible. Chelsea was the right age to have lived and remembered the fallout of Phandaria's Civil War, for this to be a familiar enough sight. But Mary supposed Chelsea's isolated life had produced different struggles.

"I'm not a child," Chelsea sniffed disdainfully, when they arrive at the park and Mary walked back away from the ice cream stand holding a pair of drippy Softy Kreems. "I don't need to be buttered up with sweets."

"Oh?" Mary licked one of the ice cream bars, and took a cold bite from the top. "I'm not a child either, but they're pretty tasty. I think given the choice I'd rather be buttered up with one than not."

Chelsea looked suspicious, like she was afraid of being tricked, but in the end she took the Softy Kreem. They sat a respectable distance apart on one of the park benches, and Chelsea leaned forward in her seat and watched her ice cream drip onto the ground.

Mary thought about the last time she was here. Rutee had been furiously jealous of Irene showing Stahn around, and Mary had delighted in running around the park and causing enough commotion to pull Rutee's eyes away from him. She had been married at the time, but hadn't known it. She hadn't known anything, but she had been so happy. She wondered if it was something like infidelity, emotionally at least, to have been a little bit in love with Rutee. Not enough to result in anything, not enough to be upset about Rutee's obvious crush on Stahn, but enough to flirt and tease and delight in it. But, no, that way lied madness. Dalis had been the one to make her forget him and her marriage to begin with.

Mary forced the memories from her mind. "What was it you wanted to talk about?" she asked Chelsea. And when Chelsea hunched in on herself instead of answering, Mary stifled a laugh. "Well… Out with it," she encouraged.

Chelsea bristled. "Um, I wanted to ask- You're an adult woman. And Woodrow l-likes you." Chelsea puffed herself up, trying to make it seem as if saying this hadn't taken any kind of toll on her. "And you were married, so you clearly know something about attracting a husband. So, in the interest of fair play, I think you should tell me how you did it. Tell me how to become a mature and gorgeous lady."

She said this imperiously, like a command, and Mary licked at her ice cream and looked out at the sea. She had not been expecting that. But then again she hadn't been expecting anything in particular.

"Making an appeal to your rival in love?" Mary chuckled. She supposed Chelsea would see it like that.

But when Mary thought about the King of Phandaria for too long, her skin would crawl. He'd said all the right things, but stepped too close to her while he said them – invading the spaces she'd left for her grief. _If there's anything I can do to make this time easier on you-_ And what good were the right words anyhow? Where was he when she needed him before then? The royal family was well liked in the Capital and the port cities, but in Cyril they were only the emblem on the tins of tax collectors that showed up every autumn and spring. Dalis and Mary had run the town's militia entirely without funding from Heidelberg, the same way her neighbours had run the soup kitchen. Where was King Woodrow then? And where was he when she was tossed to the floor in the garrison office in Heidelberg and, even so, she needed her wayward husband alive?

"You seem like a very proper and honourable person," Chelsea said. "So even though they say that all is fair in love and war, I think you might have some respect for the rules of engagement anyhow and… help me..." she finished lamely.

She was very skilled at flattery, Mary noticed. The way Mary might have imagined a proper lady to be. But even if she was being manipulated, she found Chelsea hard to resent. And even if attempting to woo King Woodrow sounded like a disastrous prospect at best, she felt a desire to help Chelsea the best she could.

The problem was, she realised, she wasn't sure anything she had done was what had attracted the various loves in her life.

She remembered Dalis looking down at her, sword raised. She was beaten and covered in her parent's blood, and his eyes had alit at the realisation that he had the power to cut her down or to save her at his own whim.

She remembered Rutee prodding her arm in a pub in a village completely unknown to her that turned out to be Harmentz of Seinegald. They fought over the spoils of a monster battle that they had fallen into together on the way into town, and Mary's heart wasn't in it as she lamented the loss of her memories. And Rutee had seen the opportunity clear as day: "If you don't have anything better that you should be doing, you might as well come treasure hunting with me."

And Woodrow, who had never taken an interest in her, before he'd seen her collapsed over Dalis's corpse, face contorted with rage and grief. Tears were streaming down her face, and her hands were shaking so badly she could not even hold her battle axe.

It seemed like people were always running to her in the moments she felt most broken.

And then there was Stahn, who was not like that at all. Who had been unflinchingly kind and supportive without ever overstepping the lines criss crossed around her. Who had stepped forward when she asked him to help her rescue the trapped Rutee, and who had stepped back when she asked him to leave her house and leave her to grieve. But even when she invited him to eat at her table, had placed a hand on his arm and tugged him forward, he hadn't taken the bait. And she was happy for Rutee, even if she was sad for herself. She wasn't even sure she knew how to bait a such a line properly.

Even the unhappy, bickering couples that were wandered around the seaside park would have been better for Chelsea to ask for advice from than her.

She decided she would try anyhow. "I think if you foster similar interests and find things you like doing together that's a good place to start." Dalis and her had both enjoyed sparring. And Mary had liked learning to read, and Dalis had liked having something to teach – someone who was uneducated enough to be impressed with his literacy. But when she thought of it that way it left a sour taste in her mouth. Mary scoured it from her mind. "You and King Woodrow both enjoy archery, right?"

Chelsea pouted. "Archery is a noble and deadly art, not a game," she repeated someone else's words. "But anyhow it's not something enjoyable, really. It's just what I do. It's what the Torn family does."

This was kind of depressing and difficult to reply to, so Mary just focussed on finishing the last of her Softy Kreem. She licked the last of the ice away from the stick, and looked at the letters – LOSER.

"You should really be sure to finish yours," Mary said. "You might have a winner after all." Though she doubted it.

"Are you not telling me anything useful on purpose? Please," Chelsea chastised. "What do you think makes a woman mature and sophisticated and attractive?" she repeated.

Mary gave it some thought. "I guess when I think of a mature woman, I think of someone with long, slender legs in high heels." She realised a bit too late she might be thinking of Rutee.

"But you don't even wear high heels!" Chelsea wailed.

Mary looked down at her green boots. "I guess we should both go shoe shopping sometime then," she agreed.

Chelsea pouted, but didn't reject the notion outright. It made Mary feel a little bit braver.

"I think a mature woman is also able to provide for herself and the people around her." She had enjoyed cooking, and Dalis had enjoyed eating. And Mary was aware that there was something to be angry about there too, but she couldn't make herself feel it. It had been nice to have someone around to appreciate her hard work. "If you want to, I can show you how to cook and make Beast Meat Supreme?"

"It looked very greasy the last time…" Chelsea said unsurely.

This also wasn't an outright rejection. "Maybe," Mary agreed. "But it's really tasty, I promise. The melted brie really brings out the flavour of the juicy seared meat."

"Well, alright," Chelsea agreed. "If you think it will work, the next time we're in your hometown..."

They watched the waves gather around the cliffs of the ocean park and the looming web in the sky a little longer, before Mary stood up. She wasn't sure to what end she was indulging Chelsea, and she hoped that it didn't actually attract Woodrow to either of them in the end, but it felt better to do something. To try to help Chelsea grow up and grow more competent before someone else realised how young they both were.

"We're not going to find a better cobbler anywhere than here in Neuestadt," Mary said. "Let's go get those high heels."

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AN: And then five minutes after they bought the shoes they remembered that high heels are super painful to walk around in and gave up, RIP. Thank you for reading :)


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